


Eldritch

by OonaKwon



Category: Big Bang (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medical, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Horror, M/M, Mystery, Psychological Horror, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-16
Updated: 2016-05-15
Packaged: 2018-05-07 00:29:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5436680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OonaKwon/pseuds/OonaKwon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jiyong Kwon, 25 years old, fresh out of med school, beginning his internship at Legacy Emanuel Hospital. How lucky he was to find a house to rent, a WHOLE HOUSE! Do you know how crazy the rent is in Portland, Oregon?? Maybe it's that Pacific Northwestern Vibe, that misty, broody feel everything tends to have, maybe it's because he spends too much time in the hospital morgue, but when he moved in, it didn't really seem so strange to him that his (incredibly sexy) landlord forbid him from entering the basement. Now? Things are starting to get strange. All he knows is something REALLY wants him to go in that basement. And it'll do anything to get what it wants.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Eldritch

**Author's Note:**

> so I said this was gonna be a short story but nuh-uh. I am incapable!! And this story has run away with my heart. LISTEN!! I have a plot for this story, I have IDEAS!! Lol. The whole plot has been reworked from my original concept and let's just say it's been very inspired by a lot of things including but not limited too (oh lawd) Supernatural, Charmed, Anna Dressed In Blood, Wayward Pines, Grimm, and my own love for creepy real life ghost stories and interest in occult things. You have been warned, lol. I promise it's not gonna be TOO scary. ;)

523 Knott Street was everything he could possibly want in a first home. After 6 years of living first in dorms, and then later in crowded apartments filled with anxious medical students, it would be nice to come home to a place that didn't reek of over cooked ramen and desperation.

The spacious Victorian style house was gorgeous, and it better be for the whopping $2,500 a month he was paying in rent. Beige on brown with white accents and wide, wide windows. Two floor. A quirky spread of modern touches that suited Jiyong just fine, from the obnoxiously sunny yellow paint on the walls of the living room to the spiral staircase in the kitchen that lead up to the loft-like second floor. Two bedrooms downstairs, one upstairs, which he had promptly claimed as his. Of the two downstairs, one was being turned into his office and the other, a guest room. A fairly nice backyard, too, shaded by pine trees and surrounded by a stone fence. Gaho would love it.

There was a basement, too, but his landlord had expressly forbid him from entering it. It was even in the rental agreement.

The door to the basement was in the kitchen. Probably one of the oldest thing in the house, it had to be the original door. Antique, a dark stain on the wood, the iron fixtures that were the hinges and knob worn from use.

It was locked, and he hadn't been given a key.

"That's just ridiculous," Youngbae said, eyes narrowed in distrust. "What if there's a fire or something and that's your only way out?"

Goldrush Coffee Bar was the perfect place for his morning caffeine fix. The wood benches & an art-adorned brick walls of the little corner shop was already like a second home to him after a particularly rainy morning when he'd missed the bus and was forced to take shelter in it's warmth. Now, he couldn't fathom starting his day without a cup of their single origin brew or escaping the confines of the hospital for one of their sandwiches piled high with locally sourced ingredients. He'd even started dragging Youngbae with him in the mornings. One of these days he was going to coerce Seungri into a trip as well.

Jiyong laughed, "Why would I go in the basement if my house was on fire??"

"Well, I mean, smoke rises..!"

Jiyong started laughing again and Youngbae shoved his shoulder roughly. "Shut up. Besides, there's a door in the backyard that leads down there, right? I saw it when we were moving things in."

"Yeah, but it's locked, too. And the windows are blacked out."

"See? That's just creepy!"

"Bae, it's his house. Seunghyun seems like a nice guy. He can do whatever he wants, I'm just glad he's letting me rent the place on my own. Everywhere else wanted me to have roommates to make sure I could 'keep up' with the rent."

"You're just saying that because you think he's hot."

Jiyong blushed thinking of a sharp jaw, dark eyes, and even darker waves of hair. Grabbing his coffee, he took a large gulp of the scalding liquid, sputtering around the burn of his tongue to cover his embarrassment.

"Bae! He's my landlord! That's like.. crush on your boss or something!"

"Whatever, dude, I still think he's a closet weirdo or something. How old did you say he was?"

"27, he's not that much older than us.

"Right! What kind of 27 year old owns a house like that??"

Jiyong snorted, gathering up his things from the table, shoving his phone into the pocket of his heavy winter jacket. January in Oregon was cold and wet, but it was nothing new to the Seattle native. "You're being ridiculous, dude." He said again.

Legacy Emanuel Hospital was only a few blocks from the coffee shop, so their walk, while bitterly cold and filled with gusty, rain laced wind, wasn't really that long. Hands shoved inside gloves shoved inside pockets, faces shielded by thick, woolen scarves, heads covered by knit hats, huddled together sharing earbuds.

Youngbae Dong had been his best friends since time out of mind. Their mothers had been friends in high school, got pregnant at the same time, attended new agey birth classes together, were each other's labor coaches, and they were having play dates before either of them could even focus their eyes. They were like twins, joined at the hip, brothers from different mothers. Although they might as well have the same mom. Junghee 'Jenny' Dong was just as much 'mom' to Jiyong as Misook 'Mitzy' Kwon was to Youngbae. A thrown open door in high school and a shout of 'Mom, I'm home!' was usually met with a chorus of two voices. Jenny and Mitzy, Korean-American girls desperately searching for their roots, who gave their son's Korean names and taught them to speak their mother tongue as children. Mitzy and Jenny, who held each other up when Jiyong's father died when he was three and again a few years later when Youngbae's father left them for a 'fresh start'. Who worked their fingers to the bone to put two boys through medical school, a joint effort on their part for 'their' sons.

Honestly, one of the happiest moments in Jiyong's life had been at their wedding, watching them stand up in front of all their hippy friends in matching white sun dresses on the side of Mt. Rainier, surrounded by nature, people who loved them, and their love for each other.

Youngbae was in brother, his confidant, his truest friend. Cradle to grave. When Jiyong came out in ninth grade Youngbae barely blinked and a week later was suspended for punching Logan Sloane in the face for calling Jiyong a faggot. They shared a room as kids, were dorm mates in college, got their first apartment together, and applied to all the same residencies.

Which was probably why he was still pouting about Jiyong wanting to get his own place here in Portland.

Seriously, the place Youngbae was renting was barely ten blocks from his house. The real problem was his new room mates. Fellow residents at the hospital Seungri Lee and Kang Daesung, Portland natives who liked to throw wild parties and smoke a lot of weed. It wasn't like those were things they never did, it was just that it was more Jiyong's scene than Youngbae's. Jiyong was the extrovert to Youngbae's introvert.  Youngbae was the kind of guy who liked to hide in his room with a good book and a mug of tea. He had playlists made up entirely of nature sounds. And the sounds of nature did not contain a nightly soundtrack of 'Shots! Shots! Shots!'.

Honestly, he didn't know how they did it. He was barely a month into his internship. All he did was run labs and write out orders. He worked every other night in 15 hour shifts and he was dead tired 99% of the time. Seungri and Daesung? They were already residents. Seungri was some kind of genius, though. He spoke four languages, graduated Valedictorian (in high school and college), and was top of the program in his residency group, his specialty already declared to be General Surgery. He'd already done some solo surgeries. It was kind of shocking that the kid was younger than him and spent most of his reeking of tequila when he didn't smell like antiseptic. Daesung was thinking about declaring as a Cardiothoracic Surgeon, but honestly Jiyong couldn't see it. Thoracic surgeons were intense and that guy never stopped _smiling._

Youngbae didn't know what he wanted to do yet, but Jiyong did. He had his heart set on Pediatric Surgery and he doubted anything was going to change his mind.

Certainly not his current round in the morgue. Becoming a Pathologist definitely wasn't on his to-do list. He'd seen enough cadavers to last him a life time in medical school, it was just his luck that his first round as an intern would be as a Diener. Filling out paper work and making sure no one ran off with the bodies. Occasionally he got to assist with an autopsy or two, but it was nothing new to him. Find out why the person died, write it down, file it away. He wanted to _save_ people. He wanted to make life better for little kids who'd been suffering for god knows how long. No, he couldn't _wait_ for his next round.

They pushed through the side entrance of Legacy Emmanuel Hospital, sliding through the doors of the elevator just before they closed.

As they hung their coats in their lockers on the surgical floor, he sighed, glancing sullenly at Youngbae's name tag that read 'Intern - Orthopedic Surgery'.

"Oh, come on, man. Are you still pouting about assignments? I have to look at _feet_ all day."

"Alive feet." Jiyong muttered, slamming his locker door before pulling his lab coat on over his scrubs.

"See you for lunch?"

"Yeah, cafeteria or Goldrush?"

"The weather is suppose to stay shit, lets just rough it in the cafeteria. It's lasagna day, anyway."

\----

Nobody died that day.

Thank god, but it was super boring.

The pathologist was on-call, but he wasn't in residence. So it was just him, silence, specimen jars, and Mrs. Pulaski who'd passed away yesterday afternoon. The funeral home was being slow on coming to pick her up, which he didn't think was very fair to her. Like, he knew she was dead, but it still seemed rude to make her wait.

Was it sad that death didn't really phase him anymore? Well, he should say _death_ didn't phase him, it was just that _dead people_ didn't phase him. Honestly, he was getting kind of afraid that he was going to turn out like creepy Dr. Kline, the pathologist, who talked to his 'patients' about their day as he weighed their internal organs.

He checked his watch, 11:58pm. His shift ended at midnight and if there hadn't been security cameras in the hall outside he would have escaped his basement prison to the lounge half an hour ago when he'd finished his filing and cleaning for the night. But there were cameras and he wasn't about to let anyone catch him slacking off on his last half hour. Not that he wasn't slacking off anyway, he was just doing it at his desk, in a cold room lit with flickering florescent lighting as opposed to upstairs in the lounge where there was coffee.

In the distance, he heard a door slam.

Curious, he put his phone down to wait. It was probably Samuel come to relieve him for the night shift, but after a few minutes he didn't hear anyone coming down the hall and he frowned.

He rose from his desk and walked to the door, peering down the hall towards the elevator doors and then down the other way towards the staircase where he was certain the sound had come from.

There was no one.

He shook his head, someone probably went down one flight too far, missing the door to the first floor, and went back when they realized their mistake.

Jiyong went back to his desk.

11:59

The scratching sound was so faint at first he'd thought he was imagining it. He'd always had trouble telling where sound came from, his mother said he use to get really bad ear infections as a kid, and that it caused some damage to his ear drums. He wasn't deaf, it was just that if someone called his name in a crowded courtyard he'd more than likely do a complete three-sixty before he figured out who was trying to get his attention.

So when the sound seemed to be coming from the storage room behind him, Jiyong thought for sure he must be mishearing things. He went back to the door and peered down the hall again, brow furrowed in confusion.

A thump sounded behind him and he spun around, he was _sure_ that the sound had come from the storage room.

He stood there, rooted to the spot, the hairs on the back of his neck raising in alarm. He was the only one down here. He's been the only one down here _all night._

Then the whispering started. Distorted and other worldly, not-quite-words that threaded through the room and Jiyong felt like he was going to throw up.

He was going _crazy._

Midnight.

He squared his shoulder and marched towards the door before his nerve could fail him.

He wrapped his hand around the handle and yanked it open.

_"Jiyong!"_

He screamed and fell back on his butt, as Seungri collapsed to the floor of the small room, his hyena laugh echoing off the walls.

"Dude, you should see your face!!" He gasped out.

"Holy shit, Ri, _fuck you_! How did you even get in there?" Jiyong groaned, laying back on the cool tiles, covering his face with his hands as he tried to control his racing heart.

"Resident privilege, bro, one of the attendings told me about this little hallway the other day. It connects the storage closet at the end of the hall by the landing with this one. It's left over from before they remodeled down here. They thought it would make a good storage space or something. It's got all the Christmas decorations and shit in it." Seungri bounded to his feet, opening a narrow door in the back corner shrouded in shadow that Jiyong had somehow managed to over look for the last four weeks.

Jiyong shook his head, half in frustration, half in wonder, "How were you making those noises, you creep?"

Seungri shook his phone, "App." He snickered.

"I should kill you."

"You should, but you won't. I came down here to tell you we ordered pizza." He grinned.

"Pizza?" Jiyong said warily.

Well, maybe he wasn't that mad.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come see me on tumblr [hoseokie-jung ❤︎](http://hoseokie-jung.tumblr.com/)


	2. Dread

The thing about having pizza with his friends at midnight... 

Was that the last bus ran at 11:59pm, which left Jiyong to walk the eleven or so blocks from Mallory Ave where Youngbae lived to his house on Knott St.  Luckily, Martin Luther King Jr Blvd was a pretty busy street at all hours, so it remained fairly well lit.

Well lit or not, that didn't stop him from feeling like every pedestrian who came up behind him too fast or every car that seemed to slow down too suddenly was a threat to him. If there was one thing he'd learned in his time on this earth, it was that being tiny and being 'other' was never a good combination, and he was plenty of both. His petite frame, race, androgyny, and sexual orientation had served to make him a target all his life.

Needless to say, he was relieved to turn off of MLKJ Blvd and onto Knott St. He was seriously begining to consider investing in a bike. After all, he was in Portland. Owning a bike was practically a requirement to live here. 

He turned the corner and stumbled to a stop. 

There was a light on in his kitchen.

He didn't _remember_  leaving a light on in his kitchen. In fact, he was certain that he _hadn't_   left a light on in his kitchen. He couldn't afford to be leaving lights on when he was away, his checkbook practically howled at the thought. 

Jiyong stood in front of the house for awhile, mentally chiding himself for being such a baby. It was thirty degrees outside for goodness sake! Just as (surprise, surprise) a light drizzle began to fall, and Jiyong decided he'd better go inside, a long, impossibly tall shadow passed over the lit window.

His heart seized, _someone was in his house_!

He was five seconds away from calling 911, frozen fingers fumbling over the surface of his phone, when the shadow materialized into a face.

It was Seunghyun, his landlord.

What the hell was his landlord doing at his house at almost two o'clock in the morning? 

Jiyong climbed the front steps, turning the knob on the door, surprised to find it still locked. Seunghyun must have come in through the back door.

Jiyong fitted his key in the lock and stepped into the foyer.

"Mr. Choi?" He called out, sitting his bag down by the door. He hung his coat on the rack, stuffing his gloves ino the pocket so he wouldn't lose them. "Hello?"

"Oh, Jiyong!" The older man stepped out of the kitchen, obviously surprised to see him. "I thought you were at work." His eyes darted nervously between the kitchen and Jiyong.

"I was.." Jiyong said slowly, "My shift ended at midnight. I went out to eat with some friends." He sniffed, suddenly noting an acrid stench in the air. He stepped around the older man into the kitchen "What's that smell?"

Was Seunghyun cooking something?..

"Oh, uh, that's actually why I'm here. The, uhm, gas company called me and said there might be a leak? I came over to check it out." 

Jiyong stared at him, incredulous. "...okay."

His eyes travelled around the room, taking in the slight haze in the air, a large black bag sat on the counter, and, finally, the basement door which stood slightly ajar.

As soon as Jiyong's eyes alighted upon the door, Seunghyun's hand was there, large palm shoving it shut with a snap. He produced a large metal key from his pocket and locked it tight. The older man turned fixing him with his dark gaze and Jiyong momentarily forgot how to breathe.

The next second he found himself floored by the Seunghyun's dazzling smile. He had dimples!

_Dimples!_

Herealized Seunghyun was talking, but he hadn't heard a single word.

"Huh?"

Seunghyun fixed him with a peculiar look, eyebrows cocked in something like exasperation,

"I _said,_ I took care of the leak, Dr. Kwon. It's safe to stay in the house. Just let me know if you need anything else."

Jiyong nodded. He watched as Seunghyun snatched the leather bag off the counter and slinked  out the back door. Jiyong shook himself, stepping quickly to the kitchen window. Twitching the curtain aside, he tracked the older man's progress across the backyard and out the side gate.

What the hell just happened?

 ---

"He's lying." Youngbae said, glaring at Jiyong darkly over the rim of his coffee cup.

"Obviously. Gas leaks are odorless. And why the hell would the gas company call him as opposed to, say, I don't know, _the fire department?_ "

"Then what the hell was he doing at your house, at two o'clock in the morning, when he thought you were suppose to be at work?"

Jiyong shrugged, "I have no idea. He was up to something, though. I definitely smelled something weird and the basement door was open." He sighed, his brain trying to reconcile his landlord's suspicious behavior with memories of dimples and perfect teeth. 

Youngbae barked out a laugh.

"Oh man, you look so disappointed." He snickered "The man probably has bodies stashed in your basement and you're _still_ crushing on him!"

Jiyong groaned, " _Baeee,_ shut up. He's really hot, okay?! You should have seen him last night. God, he's such a sharp dresser. That sweater he was wearing was just the right shade of blue, and his boots were killer, I bet they were super expensive, and those _jeans, Bae you should have seen the things those jeans did to his ass!"_

"Jiyong! Potential.Drug.Lord." Youngbae grabbed him by the shoulders, shaking him gently to accent each word, "Black.Market.Arms.Dealer."

"Shut up, shut up!" Jiyong laughed, smacking him away. "I get it."

"Maybe you should start looking for a new place to rent? You could always crash with me until you find something else."

Jiyong shook his head furiously, "God, no. No way!"

He checked his watch, their lunch was almost over and they had an advanced skills lab that afternoon. He glanced up and saw the look on Youngbae's face, a mixture of hurt and worry.

"Aw, Bae, I didn't mean it like that. I just like having my own space, that's all. It would suck to have to go back to sharing space with three other guys." 

"At least we won't murder you in your sleep!"

"He's not going to _murder_ me! He's probably a Brony or something. He keeps all his My Little Pony collectible in an airlock chamber down there to keep the germs out."

Youngbae snapped his fingers,

"I got it!" He grabbed his coat off the back of his chair, "I bet you he's growing pot."

"What?" Jiyong laughed, pulling on his own coat.

"I'm serious! Dude! You know how those guys are, they get super into botany and set up crazy complex systems to optimize their growing capacity. He's probably got a full irrigation system down there. They're all, like, geniuses, too. Social awkward as fuck." He was on a roll, hands waving around excitedly as he talked, "That's probably why he has so much money, too. I bet you he was growing and selling before it was legal here. That's why he's all paranoid and secretive. He's still not use to being on the right side of the law. _Dude_ , the smell was probably fertilizer or something!" 

Jiyong followed Youngbae down the sidewalk back toward said the hospital, listening as his voice grew more and more excited.

"First you try to convince me he's a serial killer and now suddenly he's a harmless plant geek?"

"Ji, you're acting like you _want_ to be murdered horribly. Besides, aren't potheads generally boyfriend material  than axe murderers?"

Jiyong blushed, "Yeah, I guess they are."

\---

Jiyong sat at his desk, a files worth of paperwork spread out before him waiting to be filled out.

The skills lab had been interesting but he was glad it was over. Three hours spent performing complex sutures was about two hours too many. Luckily, his sutures had been good enough on earn him a chance to scrub in on Dr. Ling's next surgery, one of only three interns to earn the opportunity. Of course, he'd only be observing, but she'd said his sutures had been even and tight, and that his speed was really commendable. She said he had good hands, a very high compliment in the world of surgery.

He couldn't wait for his shift to be over, the morgue had never seemed so dull.

The silence around him was so all consuming to the point that the hum of electricity from the refrigerated drawers and the scratch of his pin on paper was almost too loud to bear.

Behind him, a thump sounded. 

Jiyong froze in his seat,  his heart making a temporary home in his throat, before it broke free in a chuckle. 

"I'm not gonna fall for that twice, Ri!" He called out.

He shoved his chair back and strode towards the storage room door. He wrapped his hand around the handle, yanking the door open to find... Nothing.

Cautiously, he stepped inside. He peered around shelves and peeked behind filing cabinets. He opened the door in the back corner of the room and gazed down the short, dimly lit hallway, but no one was there. 

Frowning, Jiyong closed the door and stepped back into the main room.

The thump sounded again, followed but the dull rattle of metal.

Icy fear rolled down Jiyong's spine as he whirled towards the wall of refrigerated drawers. 

_It couldn't be..._

A weak voice called out, muffled by sheets of metal,

"Hello? Is anyone out there? I'm scared!"

Jiyong's heart ground to a stop inside his chest.

_No, no, no, no!_

He'd only met her once, while she was alive that is, on his post-op rounds with his instructor early the morning before she died, but the voice was undeniably that of Mrs. Pulaski. 

But the coroner had come to collect her yesterday morning, come to collect her _dead body_ to take to the _funeral home_!

"Please! Can anyone hear me? I need help!"

Slowly, as if they had a mind of their own, his feet began to move towards the drawers. Jiyong's heart was racing, he was sure He was going to pass out any second now. Panic swelled up in his chest, choking him. His hands jerked and stuttered before him as they rose, his fingers reached out to brush the cold metal surface...

He opened his eyes to find himself face to face with his basement door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come see me on tumblr [hoseokie-jung ❤︎](http://hoseokie-jung.tumblr.com/)


	3. Eerie

Jiyong stood, frozen, fingers outstretched just inches from the worn wood of the door.

He was at home, in his house, standing in his kitchen.

_When did he go home?_

He couldn't remember.

He couldn't remember anything after the skills lab and filling out that damn paperwork.

He looked down at himself and realized he was in his pajamas.

He turned, throwing his eyes around the kitchen. Plates drying in the sink, a cup of tea on the counter, still warm.

Music floated down the stairs from his bedroom. He reached up and touched his hair, still damp from a shower he didn't recall taking.

He took a forceful step away from the door, backing away until his calves hit the bottom most metal step of the spiral staircase behind him, then he whirled and scrambled up them, practically on all fours. That creepy feeling you got as a kid when you had to turn a light off, then turn your back on a dark room was alive inside his gut, except ten times more wild and sinister than he'd ever remembered it being when he was fifteen and too tough to admit that he was still kinda afraid of the dark.

Once upstairs he threw the trapdoor over the top of the stairs and slide the lock into place. He stood there for a moment, staring at it, chest heaving. He half expected Mrs. Pulaski to start banging on the other side any second now.

When that didn't happen he started searching for his phone.

It was charging on his dresser, right where he put it every night before he went to bed. There was even his usual stick of incense burning in its tray.

Everything was exactly how it should be, expect for the fact that he couldn't remember doing any of it.

Jiyong snatched his phone off the charger and called Youngbae.

"Hello?"

"Bae, where are you?"

"I'm at work, I'm on rounds tonight but all I've been doing is running scut. Why, what's up?"

"Did.." He took a shaky breath, "Did you happen to see me leave after my shift tonight? Did I seem.. alright to you?"

"Uh, yeah, I saw you. I tried to say 'hi' but I guess you didn't hear me. I called after you but it's whatever. Don't worry about it, dude, we all have those kind of days."

"I didn't hear you? Are you sure?" Jiyong wracked his brain, trying to remember _any_ of this. 

"What do you mean 'am I sure?'. Did you hear me or not?" Youngbae snickered.

"Youngbae, listen, you're going to think I'm crazy.. but I don't _remember_. I don't remember clocking out or getting my things or the bus ride home. I don't remember eating dinner or taking a shower or making tea."

Youngbae's voice was suddenly much more serious,

"What do you mean you don't remember?"

"I mean I just, I don't know I just suddenly _woke up_ and I was standing in the middle of my kitchen and I have no recollection of how I got there or what I was even doing before that."

"What do you mean, you _woke up?"_

Jiyong sighed in frustration, shoving his fingers through still damp hair which only served to unnerve him further.

"I was having a nightmare and I literally woke up."

"So what, you were sleep walking?"

"I guess?! I don't know, Bae."

Youngbae let out a rush of air that sounded tinny over the speaker of Jiyong cell phone. Much to Jiyong's surprise Youngbae actually sounded a bit relieved.

"Dude, don't you remember when we were kids? You use to sleep walk all the time. Mom took you to see that therapist and they said it was stress? You use to have those awful nightmares, too, about some kind of monster you swore lived under your bed. They put you on a benzodiazepine for a while and then weaned you off when you started being able to control your anxiety on your own again."

Jiyong shook his head before he remembered that Youngbae couldn't exactly see him,

"That sounds familiar, but I don't really remember it."

"Dude, I'm not surprised. Those meds are good for short term cases but they can really mess you up. I'd be shocked if you remembered anything beyond a fuzzy recollection. Anyway, you're a medical intern. That's a stressful job. It's probably starting to mess with your anxiety again. Maybe you should go see the hospital psychologist?"

"Anxiety." Jiyong breathed, "Yeah, maybe I should go see a shrink." He laughed, trying to sound any where near as relieved as Youngbae apparently was.

The thing is, if it was anxiety, how did he make it through six years of medical school without it rearing its ugly head?

He'd been more than anxious then, there were a couple of times where he was so stressed he'd considered quitting and told himself a life time as the manager of the local McDonalds was a more than legitimate career choice.

No, he was being ridiculous. Ridiculous and in desperate need of a professional to talk to.

"Thanks, Bae. I'll talk to you tomorrow okay."

"Sure. Call me if you need me. Love you."

"Love you, too."

\---

Two weeks and three sessions later he left Dr. Farley's office with a diagnosis of Generalized Anxiety Disorder, a treatment plan that consisted of cognitive behavioral therapy, and a prescription for Paxil. She'd offered him Valium but he remember what Youngbae had said about how the benzodiazepines had effected him as a kid, so he declined the offer.

He stood in front of his bathroom sink eyeing to bottle of tiny white pills in his hand.

Did he really need them?

He hadn't had an 'episode' since that night he lost four hours of his night to the fog inside his head.

Dr. Farley had pulled some strings and gotten him pulled from his morgue rounds, but he still felt awkward about it. He was a _doctor_ , damn it. He should be able to do the job assigned to him regardless of his _stress_ or _anxiety_ or whatever. And now his instructors were treating him like he was made of glass. They spoke softly to him and corrected him gently. He was never going to learn anything like this.

He hated this.

He sat the bottle of pills on the shelf in the medicine cabinet, unopened.

\---

Jiyong was in the restroom at Goldrush, Seungri and Youngbae sat at their usual table waiting for him but he felt like shit.

He hadn't been sleeping well.

His nights were restless, he spent all night tossing and turning. He woke up feeling like someone was standing over his bed, but when he threw and arm out and turned on the light, no one was there.

His new rounds were in the Emergency Room. How that was suppose to be less high pressure than the morgue he'd never understand. The morgue was supposedly a _trigger,_ what with being surrounded by dead people and a general lack of hope. Now he spent his time comforting crying mothers and taking teething babies' temperature and helping elderly people in and out of their wheelchairs.

He'd made it half-way through his pomegranate salad when he'd broken out in a cold sweat and excused himself for the restroom.

Jiyong slumped over the sink, splashing cool water on his face in an attempt to reorient himself.

_"Get out.."_

He jerked, the voice had sounded like someone had whispered directly in his ear. He turned quickly to the side, but there was no one there.

He turned back towards the mirror to see a hand print, like someone had braced themselves against the glass and the residual heat had fogged up the glass, slowly fading from sight.

He stumbled backwards and out the door.

"I need to go home." He muttered as he rushed passed his friends.

"Jiyong!" Youngbae called after him, "You forgot your bag!"

Seungri stared after him, eyebrow raised.

"What's up with him?"

Youngbae frowned, "I have no idea.."

\---

Jiyong burst through his front door and into the kitchen. He headed for the stairs, but the closer he got to the basement door the more his head pounded. He flung himself up the stairs, slamming and locking the trapdoor behind him. He wrenched open the medicine cabinet in the bathroom and shook a pill out into his palm. Dr. Farley had said it would take four to six weeks for the pills to take full effect, and he's already wasted two. He choked the pill down and slumped against the wall behind him.

Was this really anxiety? He was _hallucinating,_ for god's sake. He'd have to bring this up at his next session. They'd put him on antipsychotics, they'd take away his license to practice medicine until he was _better._

What if he didn't get better?

He heard a door open downstairs and water running in the kitchen sink.

His hands shook as he stood from his place on the floor and creeped to the trapdoor. Straining his ears, he caught the distinct sounds of shuffling feet, very human and very real.

"Jiyong?"

His shoulders relaxed, and he lifted the trapdoor to peer down at Youngbae standing at the bottom of the stairs with his forgotten bag over his shoulder and a kettle of water for tea already on the stove.

He slipped down the stairs and took the bag from Youngbae, moving to sit it in the hall under his coat rack where it belonged.

"Thanks."

"Are you alright, Ji? You look like death."

"I think I'm coming down with something. Hazard of working in the E.R." He shrugged, smiling at his best friend weakly.

"You're a shitty liar." Youngbae's brows were drawn together so tightly they were practically conjoined. "Talk to me, Jiyong."

He couldn't. No way on Earth was he telling Youngbae he was hearing voices, seeing shit in bathroom mirrors.

He'd tell their boss.

He'd tell their _moms_.

"I swear, Bae. I'm fine. I'm just going to take a nap, alright? Tomorrows my day off, anyway. Mom and Jenny are driving down to bring me Gaho. I'll feel better once I see his ugly face."

\---

Jiyong stood in the foyer, peering out at the street through the screen door. It was the first week of March, and surprisingly warm. No rain, dappled sunlight and a gentle breeze that smelled distinctly of spring. It was beautiful.

A violently yellow Prius pulled into his driveway and a door swung open. A flurry of paws and fur and slobbery teeth scrambled out of the interior and straight for his front door. He swung it open just in time to prevent a shar pei sized hole from forming in the screen.

"Gaho, hey buddy!" He plopped down on the floor and was immediately treated to a lap full of dog. He kissed every wrinkle on his face and Gaho returned to favor.

"Are you sure you're up to this? You're so busy and Jolie is going to miss him like crazy." Jiyong stood up to hug his mother, tucking his chin over the top of her head just to remind her that he was still taller than her.

"I'm sure, Eomma. There's a college girl down the street who is getting home from work around the time he'll need to go out and she's already agreed to let him out and feed him for me in the evenings."

Mitzy frowned,

"You're giving strangers keys to your house? Do you want to be robbed blind?"

Jenny walked up behind her, dog bed and food in hand.

"He'll be fine, dear. He's a big boy." She arranged the bed in the corner of the living room in a patch of sunlight. "So, where is my Youngbae? Too good fro his own mother now that he's a big fancy doctor?"

Jiyong laughed, hugging her, too.

"Umma, you know he loves you. He'll be here in an hour or so, he had to work until three."

"Knock knock! _S hille hamnida_?"

The three turned towards the voice, surprised. Jiyong hadn't even realized they'd slipped out of English until the Korean words floated through his front door.

When the tall figure poked his head around the corner, he couldn't help instantly brightening.

"Seunghyun, hey! Eomma, Umma, this is my landlord Choi Seunghyun." He rushed to introduce them, "Seunghyun this is my mother, Kwon Misook, and my-uh-Youngbae's mother, Dong Junghee."

Seunghyun blinked and Jiyong realized that just because the guy knew how to politely say 'excuse me' didn't mean he was fluent, but then he smiled and replied, if a bit slowly,

"It's nice to meet you, Ms. Kwon, Ms. Dong." He bowed politely and the women tittered.

"Oh my, no, call me Jenny. This is Mitzy. Ignore our son, he's too much."

Mitzy elbowed her son in the ribs, whispering,

"So _polite._ You didn't tell me how handsome he was. And he's Korean."

Jiyong blushed,

"Of course he's Korean, what else would he be with a name like Seunghyun?"

"Sorry to interrupt, I just thought I'd stop by and see if you needed anything. It's been awhile since I heard from you, Dr. Kwon-" Jenny and Mitzy tittered again, "And I thought I'd make sure everything was in good repair. Nothing... strange you might need me to have a look at or anything?"

Jiyong frowned,

"Strange? Um, no. Not really? I'm not quite sure what you mean by strange..."

 _Bang_!

A thud sounded from upstairs, right above their heads about where Jiyong's closet would be.

"What was that?" Mitzy asked, "Did you get a cat?"

Jiyong stood, eyes trained on the ceiling.

"No."

"Ah, that's probably just that old furnace. It knocks sometimes, you know? The ducts heat up and pop." Seunghyun said quickly, "I'll just go down to the basement and look at it."

He hurried off into the kitchen and Jiyong frowned after him. He turned his attention back to his parents,

"So... pizza?" He smiled cheekily.

"Pizza!" They scolded, "No, we're cooking you a _real_ dinner. Now show us the stove, we've got work to do."

Jenny went back out to the car for the groceries they brought with them while Jiyong showed his mother around his kitchen. He deliberately kept his back turned towards the basement door.

Just as they were setting some rice to fry, he heard the front door open and close again.

Youngbae stepped into the kitchen and sniffed the air appreciably.

"It already smells good." He kissed his mother on the cheek before hugging Mitzy.

"Youngbae-yah, my son, look at my big strong doctor." Jenny cooed, smoothing back his hair.

Before long, there was a spread on the table fit to feed ten people, let alone four. Kimchi fried rice, and plates of meat, and more side dishes then would ever be necessary.

Footsteps clomped up the stairs and Seunghyun stepped out into the kitchen, face grim. He shut the door firmly behind him and locked it, placing the heavy iron key back into his coat pocket, zipping it shut like he thought it was going to sprout legs and walk away.

"Seunghyun-ssi, would you like to eat with us? There's more than enough!" Mitzy asked, already guiding the tall man to a chair at the table.

"Ahjumma, I couldn't. This is a family meal." He stuttered, blushing. Jiyong smirked a bit, seeing the older man ruffled by his mother's pushiness. That is, until she pushed him right into the chair next to his.

" _Ahjumma!_ Listen to him, Jenny. Call me Mitzy. I insist. When was the last time you had a proper meal with proper food?"

"Oma!" Jiyong groaned, embarrassed, "You don't know anything about him."

"I know he's too skinny!"

Youngbae, for his part, had been strangely quiet since Seunghyun's appearance. That didn't stop him from glaring daggers at the older man, though.

They all ate together, quietly at first, awkwardly as Jenny and Mitzy talked about their flower shop and remodeling the den. Jiyong snuck Gaho scraps of meat under the table when his mother wasn't looking. Before long, they managed to drag the boys into their conversation,

"How have you been feeling, Jiyong?" Youngbae asked around chopsticks full of rice.

"Oh, Jiyongie, were you feeling poorly?" His mother cooed, placing a warm palm against his forehead.

"I'm _fine._ " He said, glaring at his best friend across the table. "I just haven't been sleeping well. Nightmares. I saw a doctor and they gave me some sleeping pills. I'm fine." He repeated for emphasis.

"Nightmares?" Seunghyun asked, the word coming out slow and unsure, "What kind of nightmares?"

Jiyong turned his head to stare at him. Other than the initial interview and tour of the house, their conversations had been limited to one weird 2:00am kitchen freak out and one awkward Korean mother induced dinner. Why did he care about his nightmare.

"It's not a big deal. I don't even remember what they're about." He lied. His eyes involuntarily flickered towards the basement door that he could suddenly feel behind him like a living, breathing thing.

Seunghyun frowned, following his eyes.

Jiyong could have swore that the older man visibly paled.

When dinner was over Seunghyun pulled him to the side.

"You haven't gone in the basement have you?" He asked, voice low and urgent,

"No! You told me not to, why would I?"

Seunghyun's impossibly dark eyes held his as he nodded and said,

"Good. I promise I have a good reason, just... don't go down there, okay? No matter what you think you hear."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come see me on tumblr [hoseokie-jung ❤︎](http://hoseokie-jung.tumblr.com/)


	4. Strange

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warning for light description of someone receiving stitches and a medical description of an injury obtain during a car accident and someone talking about performing an appendectomy.

"What does that mean? 'No matter what I think I hear'?"

Seunghyun made to take a step back, obviously trying to make a break for the back door, but in a moment of pure daring and also maybe a bit of stress induced insanity, Jiyong quickly reached out and caught his wrist, preventing him from making his escape.

" _Wait_." Jiyong hissed, "You can't just spout off cryptic hints like that and then walk away. Tell me what the fuck is going on!"

Seunghyun's eyes darted between Jiyong's determined features and his frankly iron grip on his wrist, looking more than a bit stricken. He leaned forward into Jiyong's space and Jiyong gasped, a headful of cedar and aftershave, and had to force himself not to retreat.

" _Listen_." Seunghyun whispered, the deep timbre of his voice pitched even lower in his attempt to keep his words between just them, "If I could tell you, I would. You wouldn't believe me even if I did. Just give me a few more weeks and I'll be out of your hair. I'll be the easiest landlord on the face of the planet. You'll hardly ever see me. Just _please,_ don't go in the basement. Okay?"

Frustrated, Jiyong opened his mouth to argue, to tell him that this wasn't working for him anymore. That he needed more then that, he deserved a real answer-

"Is everything okay in here?"

Youngbae stood in the doorway to the kitchen, frowning. His eyes traveled over Jiyong's angry stance, down to his hold on Seunghyun's arm, and up to Seunghyun's flustered face.

"Jiyong..?"

Seunghyun brought his arm down sharply, startling Jiyong and breaking his grip. The older man cleared his throat nervously,

"Please thank your parents for the meal on my behalf. I really must be going, I've lingered here too long."

Before either could respond, he was out the back door. Jiyong heard the faint sound of the gate banging shut and he knew he was gone. Youngbae strode across the room, grabbing Jiyong firmly by the shoulders and turning him to face him.

"Are you okay? Did he hurt you?" He asked, strong fingers grasped his chin, turning his face this way and that, peering into Jiyong's eyes like he thought Seunghyun might have given him a concussion or something.

"No, he didn't _hurt_ me." Jiyong knocked his seeking hands away, annoyed. "He was just warning me off the basement. Again."

Jiyong's eyes rested on the door through which Seunghyun had disappeared through.

"I think you're right, though. He's hiding something and I don't know if I want to be here when it all comes to a head."

\--------

The little girl sat in her mother's lap, lip caught between her teeth and eyes screwed shut, tears working steady tracks down porcelin cheeks.

She shuddered, a hiccuping sob shaking her small frame as the needle and thread made another pass through the torn flesh of the heel of her hand.

There had been an accident over by Pioneer Square. A tourist, frustrated by the maze like procession of one way streets that made up the downtown area, had attempted to go the wrong way down SW Morrison and had caused an accident that took out a bus stop in the process.

Legacy Emanuel was one of two level one trauma centers in the city, so they took half of the victims even though they were across the river from the site of the accident. It was an easy shot up SW Morrison and onto I-405, the paramedics taking the less severly injured parties to their door while the big injuries were rushed down to the hospital on the Oregon Health and Science University campus. They had the driver down there, thank god. Jiyong didn't feel like dealing with irate family members of injured parties today. For some reason people wanted to see the person who hurt the ones they loved suffer. Some kind of primal urge, he supposed.

One final tug of the needle and thread, and Jiyong began to recount the steps of a two-handed square knot to himself as he set about securing the distal end of the suture. Over, under, around. Pull the strands in opposite directions so as not to damage the fragile edges of the skin. He tied it off and trimmed the excess,

"There you go, Megan." He smiled up at the little girl from his perch on the low padded stool. "We're all done. You were _very_ brave."

She looked up at him with mournful eyes, big and owlish, the color of storm clouds coated with unshed tears.

"Thank you, Dr. Kwon." Her mother said, raising the child's hand to examine the stitches that crisscrossed her palm. Jiyong let her look for a moment before he took it back into his own and began to wrap it in a clean, sterile dressing. "She'll need to come back in a week to have them taken out. You can make an appointment here or if you'd rather make an appointment with you pediatrician or with your family doctor that would be appropriate, too."

The woman nodded and Jiyong's eyes traveled to the laceration that traveled from her temple down to her cheek bone.

"Now will you let me take care of your injury?" He asked, giving her a pointed look.

She shook her head, holding a mess of bloodied paper towels back up to her cheek.

"It's not even really bleeding anymore."

"Yes, but you should let me clean it at least. Who knows what cut you? You could get an infection. And it probably needs sealed or it'll scar." He reached into a drawer and pulled out a tube of dermabond, "I won't even use the needle. It doesn't look that deep."

She shook her head again,

"In a minute. I'm going to go check on my husband." She stood, craning her neck to see into the private room her husband was set up in, but the privacy curtain were drawn tight.

"Mrs. Peterson, I'm sure he's asleep. They gave him a pretty strong pain medication. His injuries were very severe, but we have to wait for our Orthopedic Specialist, Dr. Bederka, to get here." He picked up her husband's chart and read the notes the Trauma Surgeon had signed off on, "Your husband is currently suffering from a tibial plateau fracture. Dr. Frome was worried about compartment syndrome so she opted to perform a fasciotomy to buy him some time before his surgery. We'll make sure you see him before he goes down to the O.R."

Mrs. Peterson smiled at him,

"You're such a sweet boy. You're single, aren't you? I'll just be a moment longer, really. Can you keep an eye on my Megan for a minute? I don't want her to see her father like this?"

Jiyong blinked, shaking his head. He was left alone with the little girl and his thoughts. You're single, aren't you? That's what she'd said. He tried to put himself in her place and shuddered. He may not have a spouse, a _partner_ , but he could imagine clearly what it would be like if it was  
Youngbae in that bed, a pretty high chance that he was going to lose a limb, and he figured a cut on his face wouldn't be too high on his list of priorities, either.

Megan was peering up at him with those owlish eyes again. Jiyong sighed, resigning himself to waiting for the distraught wife to return.

"Want to see something cool?" He asked, reaching in the cabinet on his mobile medical tray to pull out a thick white napkin. One of those super absorbent things that would usually be used to clean up all the less than pleasant liquid aspects that came as part of working in the Emergency Room. Today, however, it would serve to distract a scared little girl.

Jiyong had always been good with his hands. Long, quick, dexterous fingers always seeking something to occupy them. His mother had shown him how to fold paper when he was just a little kid. He was five or six when he folded his first paper crane, her hands gently guiding his. Today, he used the more easily manipulated paper towel to fold a rose.

He held the paper flower out for Megan's approval, and the little girl took it gingerly, mindful of the bulky bandages covering her dominant hand. She ran a finger across a folded petal gently, and then giggled.

"It's pretty." She smiled up at him, "It's pretty like you. Boys aren't suppose to be pretty, but you are. And you can make pretty flowers, too." His cheeks flushed and she wrinkled her nose at him, "You're a weird doctor, aren't you?"

He laughed, reaching out to ruffle her hair.

"Thank you, Megan. You're very pretty, too. And yes, I guess I am kind of weird for a doctor."

\-------

Jiyong met Youngbae outside the main entrance of the hospital and they walked together to the bus stop on North Vancouver Ave.

"You look like shit, Bae."

"Thanks. That's exactly the first thing you should say to someone when you see them."

Jiyong laughed, "Sorry. How was your day, sweetheart?"

Youngbae shoved him, causing him to stumble off the sidewalk momentarily and into the perfectly curated grass of the hospital lawn, earning himself a scowl from the grumpy looking caretaker on his fancy riding lawn mower.

Youngbae rolled his shoulders, cracking his neck from side to side.

"Dr. Bederka let me scrub in on your tibial plateau fracture. The whole thing was a mess. Cracked _and_ compressed. There was no fixing it arthroscopically. Since he was already open from the fasciotomy we went full in, but Bederka took one look at it and called for the plates. There was no way he was piecing that mess back together."

Jiyong grimaced, remember the bloody mess of a man who'd been wheeled into his E.R. that morning,

"Well, yeah. He took a midsize sedan to the knee. The guy drove right into him. He only just managed to knock his wife and kid out of the way. He probably saved their lives. At least now he can tell his kid he's bionic."

Youngbae snorted, then sighed.

"Orthopedics is hard work, man. And gruesome. All those saws and drills and _bones._ I can cut into tissue any day, but for some reason seeing exposed bone squicks me out. I learned a lot, but I'll be glad when this rotation is over. I'm exhausted, though, that was my longest surgery so far. Four hours. And starving."

They both dropped onto the bus bench,

"Where are we meeting them for dinner?"

"Seungri wants to go to Izakaya Kichinto. I figured I'd let the little shit have his way since he's working a double tonight."

Jiyong snorted, "Yeah, okay. I could go for some Japanese."

The bus pulled up and they climbed on, taking a seat near the front.

Youngbae elbowed him in the side and Jiyong looked up from his phone,

"Daesung says they're already there. What do you want do they can get the order in?"

Jiyong chewed on his lip thoughtfully,

"Tell them to order a plate of avo unagi handrolls, the hokkai shio ramen, and the grilled saba."

Youngbae nodded, thumbs gliding across the screen. Jiyong kept an eye out for NE Russell. He pulled the tether to request the stop when it came up and the pair walked down a few door until they reached the family style Japanese place the four of them were so fond of. The hostess lead them to their usual table where Seungri and Daesung were already eating.

"Thanks for waiting." Youngbae muttered, dropping into his chair and snatching a pair of chopsticks from the box on the table. Jiyong sat next to him, immediately picking up his rice bowl and going for the saba.

"You're welcome, hyung." Seungri replied around a mouthful of noodles.

"Gross. You're such a baby. I thought you were suppose to be a genius or something." Youngbae glowered at him.

"I am a genius. Did I tell you guys that Dr. Ling let me solo an emergency appendectomy the other day? It was super gross, the thing had already burst and it smelled like _death._ It took me twenty minutes to clean out the area. But hey, I found like four watermelon seeds! At least I think they were watermelon seeds. They could have just been stones." Seungri shrugged like he hadn't just been talking about minor surgery at the dinner table, swiping a piece of takoyaki off the platter and stuffing it into his face, ignoring the scandalized look from the young girl bringing them their bottle of saké.

Daesung nodded his thanks, picking up the bottle to pour Jiyong, Youngbae, and himself a drink. Seungri frowned at him,

"Hey, what about me?" He asked.

Daesung frowned at him,

"You have to work."

"It's a _double_. I _deserve_ a drink."

"Whatever, dude. You volunteered to work a double, you don't get any sympathy from me." Daesung scoffed, throwing back his drink pointedly.

"What do you mean, he _volunteered_?"  Youngbae said. He pointed his chopsticks at Seungri threateningly, "And here I've been feeling sorry for you all night."

"Don't point your chopsticks at people, hyung, it's rude." Seungri smiled at him impishly, snatch up his cup of tea and sipping it innocently.

\-------

Jiyong had to get out of the house. It was his day off and he'd been dead set on laying in bed all day catching up on his self-induced reading list, but the energy in the house was all wrong. He felt like someone was looking over his shoulder constantly. He finally couldn't take it anymore.

He grabbed Gaho's leash from the hook by the door and whistled. The wrinkly mess of dog bounded to the front door enthusiastic enough for the both of them. Jiyong smiled, clipping the leash to his collar. He locked the door behind him and set off towards Irving Park. Sycamores lined the sides of 7th avenue and the thick growth of new spring leaves smelled fresh and clean. The farther he got from the house the more he felt the tension slide from his shoulders. Gaho ran around his feet, ignoring each and every order to heel in favor or running up to small children, tail curled high over his back.

The back was shady and cool. Basketball courts and a baseball diamond. A deserted splash park, it was still too cool for that. A pebbled path led off into a wooded area. Jiyong let Gaho lead the way, the animal clearly interested in where the path went. As they entered a sort of clearing, suddenly Gaho froze. The fur along his back standing up in a clear ridge, hackles raised, the animal snarled.  Startled, Jiyong looked around for any and all possible threats and froze as well.

In the shadowed space between two pine trees stood the semi-transparent, greyish form of a person. As Jiyong watched the figured raised its arms and waved them above its head. Then it turned at pointed back the direction Jiyong had came. Gaho growled again and Jiyong realized that his dog could see it, too.

He could _see_ it!

With shaking hands, Jiyong tore his phone from his hoodie pocket and snapped a picture of the space between the trees. When he lowered his phone, the figure was still there, but it was quickly fading from sight. It seemed to be fighting it, like it didn't have the energy to stay any longer, but it was still frantically pointing back the way Jiyong had came, back towards Knott Street, back towards the house, and then it was gone.

Suddenly, Jiyong felt like he was going to be sick. His head was pounding and his stomach heaved. He leaned forward, hands on his knees, gasping for breath as his vision swam with spots and his ears rang. A smell like something burning permeated his nostrils and he groaned. He groaned again when Gaho whined and licked at his down turned face, almost knocking him over in the process.

He wrapped Gaho's leash more firmly in his hand and turned to leave the park. He didn't know what to do. He couldn't go home. Not yet, not with that _thing_ obviously wanting him to go back.

Instead, he grabbed a coffee from some place called TwentySix Cafe and sat at the tables outside. He gave Gaho a drink from the water he bought in the plastic bowl the barista had been kind enough to give him. Jiyong stared at his phone on the table in front of him. Slowly, bracing himself for the worst, even though he didn't know what the worst could possibly be, he opened his camera roll and selected the most recent picture.

The tree line appeared on the screen before him, and directly where the figure had been, and sphere of white light. Almost like a lens flare but... not. It was too perfect, and there seemed to be a ring of darker light around it, like a halo or an aura or something equally kitschy and weird and not at all what he believed in.

Honestly, Jiyong didn't know what he believed in anymore.

He'd spent the last few months thinking he was going crazy, that he was cracking under the pressure of work. That he was going to spend the rest of his life medicated and in and out of doctors' offices as they assigned words to him like 'anxiety' and 'trigger' and 'delusions' that just didn't feel right to him.

Gaho had seen it, too.

Whatever 'it' was, Gaho had seen it.

That had to mean something, right?

\-------

Eventually, the sun started to set and Gaho started to whine. It was time to take his dog home and feed him. And it wasn't like he could never go home again. Eventually, he had to go home.

He let Gaho and himself in. After feeding the dog, he set about making himself a sandwich. His phone chimed in his pocket.

_Do you have an extra set of work shoes? I had a patient spew all over mine. Second time this week. I'm out of spares._

Jiyong grimaced before texting Youngbae back,

_Sure, I have a pair upstairs I'll bring them by just give me twenty minutes._

He climbed the spiral staircase to the loft and went straight to his bedroom closet.

Pulling the door open, he dug around in the back corner for his extra pair of non-slip shoes when his fingers hit something, long and metallic on the floor between the shoeboxes. Frowning, he pulled whatever it was out and promptly dropped it in shock.

" _No fucking way..._ " He breathed. He'd forgotten about it after the confrontation with Seunghyun in the kitchen, but now he remember. The loud thump they'd heard from his bedroom a couple of weeks ago. When his mom had asked if he'd gotten and cat and Seunghyun had taken off for the basement like The Flash.

The large ornamental key sat on the floorboards of his closet, rusted and dusty, an exact replica of the key Seunghyun kept in his pocket and guarded so religiously.

Jiyong looked up and saw a crack in the wall near the top shelf. It must have fallen from up there. He stood up on his tiptoes and carefully felt around in the crack, more like a small, crudely carved out compartment. He fingertips brushed against something papery, which he managed to catch hold off and pull out.

A worn photograph of what appeared to be two women in their twenties. Old. Very, very old. They stood close together, their faces fixed in the typical masks of indifference so common to the era when taking a picture took forever. They both wore plain dresses, hair pulled back demurely from their faces. The only thing that seemed weird was the large, ornate pendant that hung from what looked like the older sister's neck. They stood on the front porch of a house. _His_ house, he realized belatedly. Jiyong turned the picture over and saw a thin, thready bit of hand writing,

_Sisters Lois and Eunice Howard, 1902_

There wasn't much to go on, save that the picture was _really freaking old._

His phone chimed again,

_thanks I really appreciate it_

Jiyong remembered why he'd been in his closet in the first place and quickly grabbed the shoe box from the closet floor.

He paused for just a moment before he picked up the key and shoved it in his pocket with his phone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come see me on tumblr [hoseokie-jung ❤︎](http://hoseokie-jung.tumblr.com/)


	5. Bizarre

"How'd your morning go?"

Jiyong shrugged, scrolling through the collection of links on the screen before him as Youngbae dropped into the vacant seat next to him.

"It was good? Eventful. We had a fifteen year old come in to the E.R. Vomiting, fever, tachycardia. The whole shebang. Did an initial examination and his abdomen was distended with a palpable mass. I tried to talk to him, see if he might have any idea what caused it. He was pretty tight lipped about the whole thing, so I had him admitted and ordered some labs, an abdominal x-ray, and a CAT scan. Results came back and this kid has a bunch of cracked ribs and a busted bowel. His white blood cell count is through the roof and his blood acid levels are sky high, too. To me, it was obvious that someone had been beating on this kid-"

"Shit, man." Youngbae swore, a frown pulling down the corners of his mouth,

"-yeah, so I called social services since we'd been trying since he came in and we still couldn't get ahold of a parent. So the social worker shows up and tries to talk to him while we're getting his prepped for surgery and he _freaks,_ but he's still not talking. He just keeps saying that no one's hurting him. So we get him into the O.R. and I tell him that we're gonna put him out and I need him to count backwards from one hundred for me and right before he goes under the kid reaches out and grabs my hand and starts babbling about how he's been training to be a mixed martial arts fighter and begs me not to tell his mother because he'll be _grounded,_ like that's what he has to be worried about right now and not his perforated bowel or the emergency surgery he's getting ready to under go."

"Oh, shit." Youngbae snorted, "So what happened?"

"Well his mom finally shows up, and she look _exhausted._ Single mother working three job, you know how it is." Youngbae nodded, because that was the life they'd lived as kids. "So we tell her what happened, that her baby let someone punch him in the gut until he popped, and she's _livid_. And the poor boy, the minute he opens his eyes and sees her standing there he tries to lie and tell her he hurt himself falling off his _bike._ I thought she was gonna strangle him with his IV line. Anyway, I don't think he's going to be the next Anderson Silva anytime soon."

Youngbae shook his head, "I'm never having kids. They do the stupidest shit."

Jiyong chuckled, clicking over to the next page of links. "Sure, you're not."

"I'm not." He said firmly. Youngbae leaned forward and tapped the frames of his reading glasses, "So why exactly are we spending our down time in the research lab?" He read the words on the screen, obviously curious. "What are those... newspaper archives? Is this work related?"

Jiyong shook his head, sliding the picture he found in his closet out from it's hiding place under the keyboard, towards Youngbae. "I found that in the house."

Youngbae picked it up gingerly. He stared at it for a second, "So? What the hell is it?"

"A picture, dumbass. That's my house. I'm trying to find out who they were..."

"Why? What makes you think they were anybody?"

"Obviously they were somebody. Everyone is somebody."

"Revision; what makes you think they were anyone important?"

Jiyong shrugged again, "I just do."

A link finally caught his attention, the sister's names clearly displayed in the title. He clicked on it and was presented with a scan of an old newspaper headline.

"Holy fuck.." Youngbae swore.

**_Murder-Suicide on Knott St._ **

_June 12th, 1903_

_Miss Eunice Howard, 26, of Portland, Oregon murdered her sister Miss Lois Howard, 24, also of Portland, Oregon in the early hours of the morning in what appears to be a murder-suicide. Miss E. Howard stabbed her sister through the heart while she slept before turning the knife on herself. Police theorize that the motivation behind the crime was jealousy. Miss L. Howard, whom was recently engaged to one Mr. Milton Luther of Eugene, Oregon, had on that very same day announced her intentions to leave the home she shared with her older sister and move with her fiancé to the Oregon capital of Salem. _

_Miss E. Howard, a spinster who neighbors described as 'withdrawn' and 'strange' supposedly murdered her younger sister to prevent her from leaving her behind as she started her new life as a respectable, happily married woman._

_Mr. Luther, fiancé of the slain, is also missing. Police are concerned for his safety, therefore, they are offering a reward to anyone who might have any information as to his whereabouts. The Howard sisters are survived by a younger brother, William Howard, 18, who refused to comment, but who police say was cleared as a suspect after and extensive interview process...._

"Holy fuck. Someone died in your house!" Youngbae yelped.

Jiyong only frowned, pulling the photo back towards him. He gazed at the impassive faces of the sisters, they stood close together almost shoulder to shoulder. They seemed like they cared for each other... the whole thing just made him really sad.

"Yeah, I guess they did."

"Dude, that's super creepy."

Jiyong made a noncommittal noise in the back of his throat before he clicked on the next link down. What appeared to be a wanted poster filled his screen

**_ Wanted: _ **

_Mr. Milton Alfred Luther, 35 years of age._

_Reward: $100 for arrest or capture, $50 for any useful information_

The picture was in black in white, but the description listed him as around 5'8" with short, sandy brown hair and light brown eyes. His profession was listed as a handyman and his complexion was noted to be 'tanned' from working outdoors. Unlike the sisters, his photograph depicted him with a slight tilt to corners of his mouth, but it didn't make him look warm or friendly. In fact, Jiyong thought he looked downright sinister. Like a villain from an old silent movie. Like he tied people to train tracks for fun in his spare time.

"I wonder if they ever found him..."

_Vrrt_

Both young men jumped in their seats, laughing at each other as they checked the pagers attached to their belts.

"Emergency Room?" Youngbae asked,

"You, too? Most be something Ortho related." Jiyong grimaced. He hated broken bones.

"Looks like we'll have to save the rest of this episode of Murder She Wrote for later."

"Haha. Very Funny." Jiyong logged out of the computer, sliding the photo of the sisters back into his wallet carefully before following Youngbae out the door of the lab.

\-------

Jiyong found himself placing the heavy iron key into his pocket every time he left the house. Whether he was going to work, the store, out with friends. It didn't matter, he had to have it with him.

At home he felt compelled to carry it with him from room to room. Often, he would find himself standing in his kitchen and he couldn't remember what he'd originally gone in there for, but the key would weigh heavy in his palm.

Ever since he'd found the damn thing and learned what happened to the Howard sisters, he felt like his paranoia was running away with him. He'd all but convinced himself that the figure in that park was a figment of his imagination and that Gaho probably just saw a squirrel. He didn't _believe_ in ghosts. The weird light in the photo really was a lens flare and Dr. Farley was right. He was just stressed.

But still...

The vibe in the house was all wrong. The air was heavy and thick. He would be doing something simple like reading a book or catching up with something on tv when suddenly the hairs on the back of his neck would stand up and Gaho would growl. He was sure, he _knew,_ logically, that the dog was reacting to him. That his weird tension was setting of his instincts to protect his master. That didn't mean that it didn't freak him out a bit.

Honestly, he'd thought more than once since finding the key that if he just went in the basement that maybe he'd stop feeling this was all the time. He was being ridiculous, building up every little creak of the foundation settling and every chilly draft. Making it into something it wasn't.

If Seunghyun.. If _Mr. Choi_ hadn't put the idea that there was something 'other' about the basement into his head, would he be reacting this way? Would he even feel like there was something to be afraid of to begin with?

Sometimes he thought about using the key, just so he could see for himself that it was a normal basement and there was _nothing_ down there.

But then he remembered Mr. Choi.. _Seunghyun_ and how earnest his face had looked- _'Just give me a few more weeks...'_

A few more weeks.

He could do that.

Right?

\-------

Gaho was gone.

Jiyong woke early in the morning, before the sun had even begun to rise, to prepare for his shift at the hospital and notice immediately that the dog wasn't in his usual place at the foot of his bed. He figured maybe he'd went down to his bed in the living room, but when Jiyong stumbled into the room with the intent of rousing him and letting him out into the backyard to do his business, he wasn't there either.

He wasn't in the spare room or in the office.

Both the front door and the back door were locked, just as Jiyong had left them the night before.

It was impossible for him to have left the house, but Jiyong opened the back door and called for him anyway,

"Gaho? Gaho, here boy!"

A weak whine came in response... from behind him.

Jiyong whirled around, his eyes immediately landing on the basement door.

No...

Another whine, and then a pained yelp and Jiyong was stumbling back up the spiral staircase to get the rusted iron key from his nightstand where he'd left it. He had no idea how Gaho got down there, but he was getting him out.

Right now.

He rushed back down the steps, bare feet slipping on the worn metal and he was pretty certain he was going to fall and break his neck, but he managed to keep his balance and he skidded across the kitchen floor to the ancient wooden door. He fitted the key into the lock with shaking hands. It grated and caught as it turned, but it did turn. The door swung open, revealing a dark stairwell with thin, warped wooden steps and peeling paint on the walls.

"Gaho?.."

The dog barked, the sound coming from somewhere deeper in the pitch black of the basement. Maybe he was stuck behind something or under something?

Jiyong groped at the wall, locating a stiff light switch on the wall that illuminated a single bare bulb hanging from the sloped ceiling. With the added light he could see all the way to the bottom of the stairs, but still no Gaho.

He tried to call him again, and this time there was no response.

Panicked, he stumbled down the stairs. At the bottom his feet hit uneven concrete and he paused,

"Baby, where are you? Gaho?" He carefully felt around the corner until he located another light switch. The lights stuttered and flickered to life. Jiyong held his breath, palms sweaty and heart racing as they revealed...

Nothing.

Before him stood a typical unfinished basement like you'd find in any old home. It smelled of dust and damp, with rough concrete walls and exposed beams in the ceiling. Supports dotted a wide room that was furnished with nothing but a torn up old office chair and a few empty glass bottles.

He could see Gaho standing in the far corner, back stiff and hackles raised. Slowly, Jiyong approached him.

"Hey, buddy.. how the hell did you get down here?" The dog jerked at the sound of his voice, rounding on him with a happy yip, running towards him. He jumped up on Jiyong, licking at his face.

"Uff." Jiyong grunted as the dog's full weight hit him, knocking him back onto his ass. "I'm happy to see you too, bud. You scared me." He ran his hands over the dogs side and peered into his wrinkly face, checking him over for any signs of injury or distress and was surprised, but relived, when he couldn't find anything wrong with him. He fit his hands into the wrinkles on the dog's neck and pressed his forehead against his. He breathed in and out, willing his adrenaline spike down to a more manageable level now that he was sure Gaho was okay. 

When he finally regained his feet was when he noticed the array of wooden shelves against the wall Gaho had been fixated on. He glanced around the room and noticed that the old office chair seemed to be facing the shelves as well.

He stepped closer to examine them, his feet scraping through something coarse and gritty on the floor. Jiyong crouched down for a better look and noted that there was some kind of crystallized substance laid out on the floor in a thick line, surrounding the shelves in a semi-circle. He took a pinch and sniffed it cautiously.

It appeared to be.. salt?

His foot had disrupted the even shape, breaking the line. Frowning, he straightened up and moved closer to the shelves.

On the middle most shelf sat the used nubs of two white candles, the left over lumps of burned resin, and in between them, a wooden box. Curious, he picked the box up, examining it closely. It was sealed shut with a solid layer of black wax, carved all over with strange symbols.

What the hell was this thing?

He dug his fingers into the seam, the was crumbled away and eventually he was able to force the lid open. Inside was a thin sheet of cloth that looked to be covering up whatever else was stowed away inside. The cloth had a dark stain on it that he would recognize anywhere... blood.

He was so startled that he dropped the box. It hit the floor with a resounding clatter and it's contents scattered. An assortment of odd things; a few neatly bound strands of dark hair, some bent iron nails, and...

A glint of silver caught his attention, it appeared to be a chain of some kind...

He crouched down again, hooking a finger carefully through of loop of metal abd tugged.

A necklace slide out from underneath the bloodstained cloth and Jiyong gasped.

He'd seen it before.

It was the same necklace Eunice Howard wore in the picture currently hidden away in his wallet upstairs.

\-------

Jiyong sat in the lounge, running the chain of the necklace through his fingers.

After he'd found it, it was like the world all came rushing back at once. The sound of the house phone ringing upstairs had cut through the still of the basement and he'd suddenly remembered he was meant to be at work before too long.

It had taken him at least ten minutes to coax a grumpy Gaho up the rickety old stairs, and then he'd had to let him out for him to do his business while Jiyong scrambled to shower and dress for work. In the end he'd almost missed his bus. Luckily the driver was use to him being there most morning and when the woman saw him running up to the bus stop moments after she'd pulled away, she'd halted the bus just long enough for him to scramble inside.

He shoved the necklace into his bag as he went out the door.

Now, he was on his first break after a grueling four hours in the Emergency Room on a Saturday morning. Two cases of alcohol poisoning and one idiot who'd fallen off a second story balcony trying to impress a girl.

The first thing he'd done, besides down a cup of coffee, was pull out the necklace and the old photograph.

It was definitely the same necklace. Or at least a good reproduction of it.

It was silver, intricately wrought with a ton of knot work and beautiful stones in a swirling pattern. It looked incredibly modern, actually, he wouldn't be surprised if he saw a girl wearing something like it on a college campus tomorrow. The pendant weighed heavy in his palm, almost warm to the touch, probably from his own body heat being transferred into the metal.

He turned it over in his hands, looking for a stamp or an initial from the jeweler. Maybe if the company that made it was still open he could find out if it was an original or mass produced or something. Maybe he should have it appraised.

It occurred to him then that the necklace technically belong to his landlord. After all, it was Seunghyun's house. Maybe it was worth something. Maybe that was why he didn't want Jiyong in the basement, because he had the crown jewel of some crazy country that didn't exist any more locked up down there.

"Hey, hyung." Seungri dropped onto the couch next to him, smiling cheekily. "Just got out of your balcony-bro's surgery. Turns out he had a thoracic spine fracture to go along with his internal bleeding so Youngbae got to hang out. Emergency and everything so he was just a watcher, but Dr. Ling let me close. Dr. Bederka is killer with his questions, Youngbae is so freaking lucky even though I know he doesn't want to declare in that department. I'm glad I got the opportunity to see him in action, when I was still doing rotations Dr. Thomas was the teaching surgeon for Ortho and she was too nice. He talked a lot about 'distraction injuries' and how they can keep doctor's from noticing a spinal injury right away. Like I knew that already, but it was interesting to hear his opinions about it as someone who's in General Surgery where I'm more concerned with blood and guts than bones."

He stole Jiyong's coffee, taking a gulp. "What's that you've got there? You got a girlfriend I don't know about?"

Jiyong made a face, turning the pendant over in his hands again. "I found it in my basement, previous tenant must have left it behind. Just thought it was cool, I guess."

"Basement? As in creepy basement that creepy landlord creepily forbid you from ever going in?"

"Gaho got stuck down there. I had no choice."

"How the hell did that happen?"

Jiyong opened his mouth to say he had no idea and realized how crazy that sounded. The lie slipped out of his mouth before he could even really think about it, "He went through one of the windows. Pushed it open when I let him out into the backyard."

Seungri hummed in acknowledgment, reaching out to take the necklace from Jiyong. He was reluctant to let it go, but he did, the chain sliding through his fingers as it went.

"It is pretty cool. You should let me have it, there's that really cute nurse up on Peds. I've been looking for an in with her and I bet she'd love something like this."

"It's not mine, I can't just give it to you. Technically it belongs to my landlord. I'm gonna put it back when I get home tonight, I feel bad for taking it. I don't know why I did.."

Seungri tossed him the necklace, standing and stretching his arms high above his head.

"Suit yourself, hyung."

\-------

His shift ended twenty minutes ago, but Jiyong was still at the hospital.

All he wanted after a fifteen hour shift was to go home and crawl into bed. It was almost eight-thirty at night and the lounge was dead, everyone was out on the floor, tending to their assignments and their patients. There was no one in the locker room, or in the showers, or in the on-call rooms. It was the beginning of the night for everyone else.

But he couldn't leave yet, because he couldn't find the damn necklace.

After his break had ended, he'd gone to his locker and placed it back in his bag for safe keeping. When he'd returned to clock out for the night it was gone. He'd spent the better part of the last half-hour crawling around near his locker looking for it underneath benches and then in the lounge looking between the couch cushions, but it was no where to be found.

Finally, he'd decided that someone must have picked it up and taken it to the lost and found down at the administrative offices, so he'd gathered up his things and hoped in the elevator. The doors pinged open to a dimly lit hallway and he groaned, realizing that there probably wasn't anyone around anymore. He shuffled down the hall, eyeing the tinted windows of the hospital executives, his tired reflection glaring back at him. His foot steps were muffled on the crisp carpeting and the wooden accents on the wall almost made him forget he was in a hospital. He'd only been here once, and that was to sign papers when he'd accepted the job offer.

Jiyong located the little sign that read Human Resources, walking up to the sliding glass window to peer inside. As he suspected, there didn't appear to be anyone there. White emergency lights lit the interior so the security guards could see inside as they did their rounds, but other than that the department was obviously dark and deserted. He spotted the lost and found box on the floor underneath the table, so he took his phone out and turned on the flashlight app, hoping he could maybe see the glint of the chain. Maybe at least know it was there so he could pick it up in the morning. He moved the beam of light around at different angles for a moment before he sighed deeply and gave up. He switched off the app. The bright light faded and he was able to see his reflection in the glass window again.

As well as the reflection of someone standing directly behind him.

Jiyong whirled around, hand clenching his phone tightly just in case he had to use it for a weapon.

But there was no one there. Just a shadowy corner and a ficus tree.

Spooked, he slowly slide his thumb over his phone screen, pulling up the emergency dialer just incase he needed to call for someone. Hospitals were big places, you never knew what kind of weirdos could be wandering around the halls late at night.

His eyes shot around the shadowed corner once more before he started backing away. He took one step, then two, then three; before he turned and walked quickly back towards the elevator.

As soon as his back was turned he heard them. A second set of footsteps muffled against the carpeting.

He walked faster.

He could see the elevator up ahead and he broke into a run. He slammed his fist against the down button and glared at the numbers as they ticked down towards his floor. The footsteps were still coming, their pace leisurely, not affected at all by his obvious panic.

The doors open and he slipped inside, pounding his hand against the 'close' button. Maybe it was cowardly of him, but he kept his eyes screwed shut; afraid to look back down the hall.

Just as the doors slide shut he heard a breathless laugh from right outside the elevator car. The sound sent a chill down his spine. He realized that the person, whoever it was, would know what floor he was getting off at, so he chose the main floor right in front of the busiest part of the hospital.

He stood there, clutching the strap of his bag so hard that dug into his palm painfully.

The door opened to the lobby. He moved over to the main desk, pretending to be looking for something in his bag.

Out of the corner of his eye, he watched the door that lead to the stairwell to see if anyone who looked like they didn't belong came down, but when the doors opened moments later the only people that came out were a gaggle of nurses and Daesung, and then a few minutes later, Seungri, both of whom waved at him cheerfully as they took off for the night.

He frowned, either they went another way or they were still lurking around up there somewhere. He flagged down a passing security guard and told him about the encounter. The man frowned and said he would send someone up there to look around while he went and checked the tapes. He offered to have someone walk Jiyong to his bus stop, but he declined. The more he thought about it, the more he figured it was just a case of him being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Why would anyone be after him, specifically?

He left the hospital a bit later, even more tired than he had been before. He'd already missed his regular bus on Vancouver, but when he checked his watch he knew he'd have just enough time to cut through Dawson Park and catch the bus when it stopped on North William.

As he left the hospital campus and stepped into the park, he began to regret not accepting the security guard's offer for an escort. There were shadows everywhere and every one seemed threatening. Ever sound had him questioning himself.

Was that his shoe scuffing against the side walk? Was that a twig snapping somewhere off in the darkness?

Movement flickered up ahead of him and he froze. There was someone on the path in front of him...

The figure stopped, too.

Then they were running towards him. Jiyong sucked in a breath to shout, scream, yell for help.

" _Jiyong!"_

His breath caught in his throat and he gagged on too much air.

"Seunghyun? What are you doing here?"

The man jogged up to him and Jiyong stared. He was dressed head to toe in black, an assortment of odd jewelry hanging from his neck and his wrists. He even appeared to be wearing a gemstone in one ear. Funny, he'd never taken him for the type to wear such things.

But that wasn't even the weirdest thing. As he came closer, Jiyong noticed the shadow of something poking up over his shoulder and for one crazy moment he thought it was a bow. Like as in bow and arrow. Instead, it appeared to be a stick. A thick piece of wood with a fork on the end slung across his back by a leather strap.

"I came to find you. You went into the basement, didn't you? Are you okay? Where's the pendant?" He grabbed Jiyong by the shoulders, turning him around as if he could physically find the necklace on him somewhere.

"I-uh, the necklace. I don't have it. I lost it. You came all the way to my _work_ just to get back a _necklace_?" He was starting to think Youngbae was right and this guy was just a few cards short of a full deck.

" _You lost it?!_ " Seunghyun practically shouted, "Where? In the hospital? We have to find it before someone else does. No one else can touch it, you've already fucked things up enough as it is. I never should have let you move in, you're a _doctor_ for fuck's sake. Aren't you suppose to be smart enough to understand something as simple as 'don't go in the basement'? You-" Suddenly, he stopped talking, hands still clasped on Jiyong's shoulders. He craned his neck to look farther down the path.

"You said you lost it..."

Jiyong gawked at him, one second he was yelling and now he was whispering, leaning in close to be heard.

"Uh.. yeah. I put it in my locker but when I came back when my shift ended it was gone."

"So somebody took it?"

"I guess so? I mean, maybe, but-"

"We have to go. Right now." Jiyong watched as Seunghyun unslung the shaft of wood from his back. In the light of the street lamp he could see it more clearly. It was carved with the same kind of strange symbols as the box, feathers and other charms decorating it. He held the stick out and away from his body, moving quickly in a circle. He muttered to himself as he went, and Jiyong stared. He was truly unhinged.

When he was done doing.. whatever that was.. he rapped the butt of the stick sharply against the ground. "Alright, follow me. Stay close. I'll take you back to my place and we can figure out what to do from there."

"What? No. I'm going home. I'll find your little trinket for you tomorrow."

Seunghyun shook his head, "You can't go home. It's dangerous. I was just there and... lets just say there was a reason I knew you'd been in the basement."

Jiyong took a step away from him, "I don't even know you... I'm _not_ going to your house. You show up at my job, waving around a stick like a crazy person-"

"Stang."

"What?"

"It's not a stick, it's a stang. And I wasn't waving it around, I was casting a circle."

"... _okay_. So I'm gonna go home and I'm gonna probably move out within the next couple of days. Sorry for the short notice and all but-" He took another step back, from Seunghyun. He didn't know what he was gonna do, probably go back to the hospital and call a cab or something. He just knew he couldn't stay here.

Seunghyun looked mildly alarmed, "Dr. Kwon, please don't move to far away from me. It's not safe. There's a lot you don't know. Just please, come with me. I'll explain everything-"

"No." Jiyong said firmly. He took another step away, preparing to run back the way he'd come. "I'm serious. Leave me alone or I'll call the police."

"Jiyong-"

He bolted. He swung his bag, startling Seunghyun into taking a step back himself and then he ran for all he was worth.

He heard the older man swear behind him and then give chase. He was gaining on him fast, and Jiyong knew he'd never make it back to the hospital before he caught up to him, so when he rounded a blind corner in the path he veered off into a wooded area, hoping to hide amongst the bushes and trees.

He held his breath as Seunghyun charged past his hiding place and then snuck out, heading back down the path away from the hospital. He'd almost made it out of the park to the bus stop when he found his path blocked by yet another shadowy figure.

How had he doubled around so fast?

A flash of white teeth in the darkness as the figure grinned and suddenly they were on him. Their hand closed around his neck and Jiyong clawed at their fingers, trying to break grip. Even with their face hidden in shadow he knew it wasn't Seunghyun, the height and build was all wrong.

The last thing he remembered before passing out was a flash of sandy brown hair and Seunghyun's voice shouting something as he swung his weird fucking stick at his attacker.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come see me on tumblr [hoseokie-jung ❤︎](http://hoseokie-jung.tumblr.com/)


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